Your sarcasm is not helping!
by RandomCheeses
Summary: Prequel to '15 things you never want to hear again'. The Doctor tracks a mysterious signal to earth and runs into one very annoyed teenager.
1. Prologue: Meet Sam

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. One day though, one day...

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The rain was just drizzling. It was a dirty December day and the normally charming looking campus was dank and untidy looking. There were fallen leaves everywhere, making pathways slippery and potentially treacherous. Puddles had appeared in all the most inconvenient places, as they are wont to do. There were only a few people around outside, students who had the misfortune to have lectures very late in the day and were only now heading home.

The only place where lights could be seen through the windows was the Library, a multistory building of concrete and (just recently) steel and glass. The more dedicated learners were in its upper floors and they gave the building that particular type of silence which when perceived by the mind, is so very noisy. The hushed sound of many minds at work while their bodies sit silently at desks. Apart from the occasional scrape of a turned over page or the tap of fingers on the keyboard of a laptop, all was quiet. Until the sound of someone dropping a particularly heavy pile of books on their foot broke the silence.

"Oh SHIT!" The exclamation rang out across the silent room, causing it's originator to turn red when she remembered where she was. Heads turned towards her curiously for a moment, making the already red-faced girl do a spectacular impression of Mr. Tomato Head, even as she glared defiantly at the room, daring anyone to gawk. The last head turned back to what it was doing and the girl gathered up her pile of books and departed the room as quick as was possible without breaking the 'no running' rule.

Stepping into the lift and pressing the ground-floor button, the girl let the slight hum of the lift wash away her embarrasment, relieved that this late in the day, there was no one sharing the lift with her. The lift pinged when it reached the ground floor. Putting in her earphones she switched on her iPod, found her favourite track and strode out of the Library confidently, the Indiana Jones theme playing in her ears.

On her way out the girl saw a tall, thin man in a suit and converse trainers entering through the second door. She noted him only because his hair was sticking up wildly and appeared to have so much gel in it that it could be a fire-hazard. It reminded her of David Boreanaz's hairstyle in 'Angel' gone horribly, horribly wrong.

The man saw her glance at him and grinned back. It's a slightly flirty look, but such things are so completely alien to her that all he gets in return is a confused second glance, and then she's outside the Library doors and striding away much faster now to get away from the guy in the pinstripe suit who gave her such a weird look.

The pile of books safely in her backpack, the library now out of sight, the girl slowed in her stride and walked the few hundred meters to her college accomodation at a more sedate pace. Arriving at her apartment, she pulled the doorkey from the bottom of her bag and opened the door. She avoided her flatmates in the kitchen and headed to her room. Locking the door of her room, she dropped the heavy book-laden bag on the floor with a sigh of relief. Still wet from the rain, she glanced in the mirror to see if anything needs to be fixed. Predictably her hair has turned to frizz. Wet frizz. Grabbing her brush, she pulled it viciously through the wet hair, scowling at the reflection in the mirror.

The reflection in the mirror is that of a seventeen-year-old girl in jeans, a college hoodie and oft-worn trainers, with short brown hair cut off at her chin. Dull green-grey eyes set in a round, slightly chubby face, peered at the world from behind thin metal framed glasses. The girl is about five and half feet tall, but she moves like someone who has spent their life feeling very short. Like her face, the rest of her is slightly too big, a size that the crueller girls at secondary school had proclaimed 'totally fat'. Very slightly overweight and having spent her life unable to find stylish clothes in her size, the girl has a lifelong dislike of both fashion designers and those fortunate enough to be naturally skinny.

The girl's name is Samantha Sullivan. In less than two days she is going to help save the university. Maybe the rest of the world too.

###

The Doctor pulled at another switch on the TARDIS console. Sighing to himself, he glanced briefly at the beeping monitor and promptly frowned.

"Well now, that's not right. What are you doing that for eh?" The monitor declined to answer and continued beeping. The Doctor scowled at the screen and began to throw more switches, dashing around the console to hit various coloured buttons and using a foot to a pull a lever back.

"What are you beeping for eh?" he inquired of the monitor. "If I'd wanted you to beep I'd've given you a beeper. But I didn't so you shouldn't be!" The monitor ignored him and continued to beep. He scowled again.

"A signal? All right, where's it from this time? London? No? Cardiff then, gotta be Cardiff, honestly you'd think Jack could handle these things himself without bothering m- oh . . . Not Cardiff? Cork? As in, city in the west of Ireland, Cork? What's an anachronistic signal-thingy doing in Cork? There's no rift there. No residual time energy from TARDIS landings either, which is the case with London. . ."

He stopped and cursed himself. He'd been doing it _again_. Saying all his thoughts out loud as if there was someone else here who needed an explanation. And there wasn't. Not anymore. . . There was no need to talk out loud like an idiot, like some . . . some dumb _human_. He was a Time Lord, he was above that. And he had better things to be doing than standing around like an idiot. Abruptly, the TARDIS shifted sideways nearly sending the Doctor flying. He glared at his ship.

"Oi! What was that for? And they are dumb. Spend all their short lives eating chips, find out you're a different species and they either try to shoot you or dissect you! Bloody apes!" He stopped again realizing he sounded just a bit too much like his previous incarnation. That was never a good thing. He'd been too bloodthirsty then. The Doctor's expression softened when the console whined slightly. He sighed. "I know, I know," he said, stroking the console. "I miss her too."

The ship began to shudder into a landing and the usual groaning, wheezing noise filled the air. The Doctor grabbed his coat from a railing and bounced towards the door. Throwing the TARDIS doors open, he took a deep breath. . . and got hit in the face with an unusually large amount of water.

"Well of course," he muttered, "this _is_ Ireland, known for it's green fields, quaint fairy tales, alcohol exports, and _rain_." Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, he began to fiddle with it's settings so that it would track the anachronistic signal that the TARDIS had detected.

Taking a look around, the Doctor realised he was in a college of some sort. Probably the city's university, he thought. Nice looking place too, sort of an old cloisterish feel to it. The sonic scewdriver's loud buzz brought him out of his reverie. _Signal located,_ the Time Lord thought. It was coming from a building across from him. Looked like a library.

Heading through the doors, he saw a brown-haired girl going the opposite way give his hair a funny look. He gave her his best 'charming grin' back and blinked in surprise when she looked at him as if he was mad and rushed through the exit. Making a mental note to find a mirror and check if there was something on his face, he continued onwards, following the trail of the strange signal. It was coming from the upper floors of the building and he still had no idea what kind of signal it was, only that it didn't belong where and when it currently was.

Catching the lift, he did a brief sweep with the screwdriver. To his surprise there was an echo of the signal lingering in the lift. As if the source of the signal had been in here recently. He jabbed the button for the top floor and leaned against the wall, trying to think. He'd seen a signal like this before, he was sure of that, but for the life of him he couldn't remember where. Not on earth though.

"No, definitely not on earth. Other side of the galaxy maybe?" This time he didn't curse. He just sighed. He could almost hear what she'd say: _You're talking to the walls of a lift! What are you like? You great, big, space dumbo! You need therapy, sunshine!_ The lift pinged. He'd arrived at the top floor. The Doctor stepped out of the lift, alone.

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So, prequel to 15 things. Chibi!Doctor asks you to read and review.


	2. The Universe hates Sam

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. But my left shoe is the King of France.

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Back in her room, Sam was tempted to bang her head against the wall. She'd left her mobile at the library, which would be closing soon. She'd have to run back through the rain and get it. There was no way it'd still be there tomorrow morning if she didn't. So she grabbed her backpack and ran to the door, nearly mowing down her flatmate Sarah in the process.

"You alright Sam?" Sarah hollered after her.

"Yep, fine, be back later, ok? See ya!" she yelled back, accellerating down the path to the university's library. Sarah gave her a last glance, shrugged and shut the door.

"She's mad, that one," she muttered to herself. "Catch her death out on a night like this. Crazy."

By now Sam was nearing the Library, which was just about to close. After persuading the rubber faced security guard on the desk that she'd only be a minute, Sam caught the lift and impatiently jabbed the top-floor button. Half a minute later, the lift announced it's arrival on the third floor with a soft _ping_.

As she looked at the room full of desks and shelves, Sam came to several conclusions. One: She couldn't remember where she'd been sitting before her embarrasing accident with the pile of books. Therefore she'd have to search around all of the desks until she could remember which one she'd been using. Two: There were approximately one hundred desks to search. The security guard had specifically said that if she didn't leave within five minutes of coming in, he'd come up and throw her out. Three: The universe clearly had it in for her.

"Okay," she said to herself, "a hundred desks to search. Better get started."

Sam began to walk between the rows of desks hoping that a quick glance at each desk would mean finding her mobile before the grumpy security guard arrived to eject her from the library by force. On her way down the fifth row, she heard an odd noise. It was a mechanical buzzing sound that seemed to be emanating from between the bookshelves nearest her. She poked her head around the corner of the shelves and to her surprise saw the thin, wild-haired man she'd seen earlier.

He was holding a small silver cylinder which glowed blue at the tip, a bit like a novelty light-up pen._ That's what was making the buzzing noise then_, she thought. The man's eyes flicked towards her, and he opened his mouth for a second as if to talk to her, but he seemed to reconsider and closed it again. The silver device continued to buzz.

Sam was about to pull her head back and walk away from the strange man when a thought occurred to her. "Excuse me," she said politely, "you haven't by any chance seen a blue mobile on any of the desks here, have you?"

The man cocked his head for a second while thinking and then pointed. "Over there, desk by the window. By the way do I have something on my face?"

Sam blinked in surprise. "Uhh . . . no you don't" she assured him, "thanks for finding my phone." She backed up and almost ran over to the desk where her mobile was. Catching sight of the small blue object, she glared at it. If it wasn't for leaving it here, she could be home in her appartment, not soaked by rain, not risking the ire of library security by coming in five minutes before closing and she wouldn't have had to talk to some weirdo who was also tempting the wrath of security by being in the library so late for no other reason than to play with his novelty pen.

Deciding that since she'd found her mobile, she'd better get out before the guard showed up, Sam walked towards the door. Pushing it open, she started to go through when a thought stopped her. The wild-haired man _had_ helped her find her mobile. It'd only be fair to warn him about the guard and encourage him to leave before the short-tempered self-proclaimed 'security official' turned up to turf him out on his ear.

"Hey mister!" she called, "you might wanna leave before the security guard turns up. He won't take kindly to you being up here after closing time."

The thin man glanced briefly in her direction and gave her a nod. "Thanks for the heads up," he said, gesturing towards her with the cylinder, "but I think I'll be okay." Then he frowned. The constant buzzing noise had changed in tone and pitch for a second. Sam watched him warily as he pointed his toy in her direction. Again, the noise it was making changed, becoming a high-pitched whine. The man stared at her in astonishment. "But. . . that's impossible!"

###

The Doctor stared in shock at the brown-haired girl. He'd traced the anachronistic alien signal to this library and while he wasn't quite sure what it was, he had managed to narrow it down to something that belonged several galaxies away on the other side of the universe, a couple of centuries from now. And now the sonic screwdriver was telling him the source of the signal was a teenage girl, who the screwdriver's readings also told him was completely human.

Apart from the odd signal, there was absolutely nothing off about her. No rift energy, no artron radiation, no cosmic rays, nothing. She was a completely normal seventeen years and eight months old human female. With an alien signal coming from her that belonged on the other side of the universe. Oh, and now she was looking at him as if he'd _totally_ lost his mind. He had to do something fast before she decided to run the hell away from the weirdo. Humans usually did.

To the Doctor's surprise the girl took a step towards him. "I hate to interrupt you mister," she said slowly in what he recognised as a carefully-talking-to-the-mentally-unbalanced tone of voice. "But I wasn't kidding about the guard. He's very strict about closing on time. He'll be up here in a second to throw us out. We should really leave."

The Doctor smiled broadly at the girl's courage in the face of what she obviously thought was the insane. Unfortunately this only served to make her courage desert her and before he could stop her she took one last look at him and disappeared through the doorway with an impressive turn of speed. "Oh, craters," the Doctor muttered.

Rushing through the doorway after her, the Doctor ran straight into something big and heavy. Make that _someone_ big and heavy, he corrected his thought as he found himself looking up at the afore-mentioned security guard.

The Doctor smiled disarmingly at the man he'd just smacked into. "Hello! Nice library you've got here! Big, quiet and full of books! A real proper library! Don't mind me, I was just leaving." He winced when the security guard grabbed him roughly by the arm.

"Yes," grunted the burly, black haired man, "you are." With that, he began to pull the Doctor towards the lift doors, holding on painfully tight to the Doctor's arm.

"Er, y'know I can see myself out," the Doctor told him, "I can see you're a busy man and I remember the way very well. Plus I kind of need the circulation of blood back in my arm."

The security guard ignored him, pushed the call button for the lift, and when it arrived he shoved the Doctor in.

"Now _leave,_" he snarled at the Time Lord. "Opening hours finished 15 minutes ago."

The doors of the lift shut and the Doctor soon found himself back on the ground floor. Stopping for a moment to do a scan of the surroundings for any traces of the girl, he discovered something unusual. The signal was now coming from two sources. One led out the doors of the Library and was probably the brown-haired girl with the glasses. The other, though, was still coming from the top of the library. Thinking that since the security guard would probably throw him out by his ear if he caught him again, the Doctor decided to go after the girl. Of course, since she thought that he was crazy, talking to her wouldn't necessarily be any easier.

Adjusting the settings of the sonic, so that it tracked only one signal, the Doctor followed the trail to a block of flats very close to the college. Student accommodation, he guessed. The signal from the girl, which was the weaker of the two, appeared to be stationary. The Doctor tracked it to a ground-floor flat on the left end of the apartment complex. Pulling out his psychic paper, he took a breath and prepared himself to deal with a panicking hysterical human. Then he knocked on the door.

Someone peered at him through the spyhole. "Go away or I'm calling the Gardaí!" he heard a muffled voice say.

"I'm sorry" the Doctor answered, "but I really need to speak with you. It's quite important. I can show you some ID if you need to see it?"

There was silence for a minute and then the door was pulled open. "You'd better have a good reason for this," the girl warned him, "otherwise I'm calling the police to haul you off to Paul Street station in handcuffs." The Doctor noticed that she was holding a carving knife covered in melted cheese in a white-knuckled grip and gave her what he hoped was his most reassuring smile.

"Inspector Smith of Scotland Yard," he introduced himself confidently showing her the psychic paper. He realized his mistake at the same instant the girl's grip on the carving knife increased.

"Scotland Yard is the headquarters of the British police," she pointed out levelly, "and if they were doing anything over here you'd be accompanied by officers of the _Garda Síochána._ Which you're not." She narrowed her eyes at him and added as if by way of afterthought, "and your ID is blank."

The Doctor once again found himself staring at the girl in surprise. It was very rare that the psychic paper didn't work on humans. The last one it had failed on was Will Shakespeare and he wasn't getting the overwhelming sense of a mind constantly at work from this girl. She made to close the door in his face and he quickly stuck his foot out to block it, hoping that he wouldn't find his foot skewered by the cheese covered knife.

"Please, just let me explain," he said quickly, "it's very important, I swear, just let me talk to you."

The girl glared at him suspiciously. "All right," she agreed grudgingly "but I want the truth this time. Why are you following me? And make it fast, I've got chips in the oven."

"I'm the Doctor" he explained. "I was. . . passing by when my TARD. . . my instruments picked up a signal. It doesn't belong here and it could be dangerous. I believe that you've been exposed to whatever's causing it because a lesser signal is coming from you."

"How did you know where to find me?" the girl interrupted, when he paused for breath.

The Doctor shook his head impatiently. " I used my sonic . . . Look, if what's causing the signal is as dangerous as I think it is, your life could be in danger. We don't have a lot of time. I need your help to find it and stop it. Please," he finished, looking at her seriously.

The girl's demeanor had changed. He could see that she was thinking seriously about what he'd said . Then she jerked her head around. "Michelle!" she yelled, "can I borrow your stethescope?"

A blond-haired girl appeared a moment later, handed her the requested object and disappeared with an admonishment not to break it. To the Doctor's amazement, she proceeded to use the instrument to listen to both of his hearts and she barely flinched upon hearing the second one. Then she looked him straight in the eye.

"Alright Doctor, I believe you," she said firmly. But then the look on her face changed to one of childish disappointment. "But why don't you have the really long scarf, the fedora and the jelly babies anymore?"

The Doctor gaped at her.

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Oooh! Cliffhanger! Read and Review pleadeth the author.


	3. Who are you?

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. But I do own these biccies. Mmm...biccies.

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"What, how could you. . . I've never seen. . . Not with the scarf. . . Who _are _you. . . don't recognise you at_. . . What?!!_"

Sam waited as the skinny man in front of her attempted to formulate a coherent response. By the look of shock on his face she was pretty sure that she had guessed correctly. The man in front of her was the alien she'd heard so much about as a kid. The Doctor. She grinned at him feeling childishly excited. He'd stopped squawking by now, and was looking at her suspiciously.

Sam grinned again when she saw him pull out the silver device. Now that she knew what it really was she felt like screaming in excitement. _The Doctor_ was at her front door and she was looking at him use the _sonic screwdriver! _Out of pure hyperness, excitement and nervousness she laughed out loud.

The Doctor seemed to take her laughter as insulting and narrowed his eyes. Getting ahold of himself, he scanned her again and got the same result as before. Strange signal but otherwise totally normal.

"All right Missy," he asked, "how do you know who I am? I've got an excellent memory for faces and I'm sure I've never seen you before. And granted, even _if_ I'd met you when I was in my fourth body when I was, let's be honest, a bit nuts, I would still remember you. Even if you were five years old the last time I saw you I'd still remember you. But I don't. And furthermore, back in the library_ you _didn't recognise _me_. But now, suddenly you do. I find that very suspicious. So who are you and how do you know _who I_ _am?_"

The last few words came out as a growl and Sam struggled not to quail at the sight of the Time Lord's intense stare. She was halfway successful.

"Um. . . uh. . . um. . ." Sam managed to stammer before the Doctor interrupted her.

"Alright," he said, his face softening a little, "calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. If you know anything about me, then you should know that. And please, put down that knife. If you stab me with it, I'll bleed all over the place. There'd be a terrible mess on your nice carpet. Just _terrible_. Now, how do you know about me, please?"

Sam blinked. "What kni- Oh. That knife. Sorry. I was cutting the pizza. Forgot I was holding it." She smiled sheepishly. "You know how it is."

"Um, no."

There was an awkward silence for a minute and then Sam remembered the Doctor's question. "Er. . . oh yeah, I know who you are because you nearly said TARDIS instead of instruments, and I think you were also going to say sonic screwdriver before you changed your mind. Plus y'know, two heartbeats. That kinda gave it away. I'm Sam, by the way. D'you wanna come in and have a cuppa?"

Sam motioned the Doctor towards the kitchen/sitting-room and closed the front door, resting her head against it for a moment. Then she remembered something. Her flatmates. She couldn't talk to the Doctor with them there. After the whole thing with the stars and the Daleks, both of her flatmates were firmly in the I-hate-aliens-camp.

If the Doctor said anything odd. . . Well, Michelle was a camogie player, and a girl who spent two hours, five days a week running around hitting a sliotar and occasionally the opposing team viciously, with what was basically a better class two-by-four was not to be trifled with. Especially since she was a medical student. They always knew_ exactly_ where to hit to cause the most damage. Of course the Doctor probably had different insides besides the whole two-hearts thing, but still. . . Plus their friends in the upstairs flat were supposed to be coming down soon for pizza and chips.

Rushing into the kitchen, Sam saw to her relief that even though the Doctor was talking to the dark-haired Sara, she seemed to be utterly charmed by him.

Sam grabbed her by the arm and handed her the plates with pizza on them. "Look, I'm really sorry. But um. . . Sergeant Smith here needs to talk to me privately. Why don't you and Michelle take the party stuff upstairs instead, ok? I'll see you guys later. Thanks."

Sara nodded, looking at the Doctor in surprise. "He's a guard is he? Told me he was a doctor. He sounds English too. Thought you had to be a citizen to join the guards."

Sam waved her hand vaguely. "Uhm. Born in Ireland. He is a doctor, it's all a bit complicated y'know?"

Sara gave her a shrewed look, as the truth, or at least what she thought was the truth, dawned. "Ohhh," she said in a knowing voice. "Something to do with your uncle is it? Don't you worry Sam. 'Chelle and me'll take the stuff upstairs then. You come and join in later if you can."

The teenager gave a sigh of relief. "Yes that's exactly it. Thanks Sara. See you guys later." She sagged onto the sofa as Sara yelled for Michelle to come and help with the food. Five minutes later ,both flatmates and food had departed. Which was a real pity because she was starving. Sam glared at the Doctor who was eating a chip he'd managed to snag from the two girls on their way out. "Alright Mister Skinny, what's this about me being exposed to a weird alien signal?"

The Doctor declined to answer. Instead he studied her face carefully and then asked questions of his own. "You do look a bit familiar now that I think about it. Who is your uncle? Why did Sara think I'd come to talk to you about him. And you still haven't answered how you know about me in the first place."

Sam sighed again. "My uncle's how I know about you Doctor. He used to tell me bedtime stories about you when I was little. Always stopped at the scariest part too. I had nightmares for years because of you. . ." She trailed off and the Doctor waited. "Hah. . . to answer your other questions, my uncle used to work for UNIT UK as a medic. He's retired now. His name's Harry Sullivan. Now, about that signal you mentioned?" Sam stopped, aware that the Doctor was gaping at her again, letting his chip fall on the floor in shock. Feeling better she added "by the way if you'd ever called _me_ an imbecile I'd've kicked you in the ham'n'eggs."

The Doctor continued to stare, his mouth opening and shutting in shock. Finally he managed to get a sentence out. "You're _Harry Sullivan's niece?_"

Sam gave him an unnecessarily sarcastic look partly out of frustration, but mostly out of hunger. "Yes. I just said that. Do you always repeat the obvious?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to snark back at her, but he stopped with a mournful look, belatedly realising something of the utmost importance. "I dropped my chip."

"Five second rule." Sam reminded him.

###

The Doctor shook his head slightly to clear it. Get a grip on yourself man, he thought, you're a grown Time Lord, not a child! Unexpected relatives of former companions do not throw you for a loop. Harry. . . he hadn't seen Harry in years. Decades. Centuries maybe?

"Er, right" he announced to the girl, "I think I'll chuck that chip in the bin actually. No offence but the state of the floor leaves a lot to be desired." The girl, -_Sam_- he corrected himself mentally, shrugged.

"Yeah, well this _is_ student accomodation. Anyways, whatever you like, it's your chip. Bin's in the corner. Then you can tell me what the heck's going on." With that, she flopped onto a chair, watching him curiously. The Doctor threw the chip at the bin, grinning with childlike delight when he scored a direct hit. Then he spun on his heel, turning back to Sam, suddenly all business.

"Okay then," he began, plonking onto the seat next to her. "Get comfy, it's story time. Let's see if I can do as good a job as Harry eh?" Sam smiled, giving him a look which said I-don't-think-so. Undeterred the Doctor cleared his throat and started to speak, affecting a soft scottish accent in order to sound mysterious. "Once upon a time, in a galaxy pretty near us, as a matter of fact, there was a Time Lord travelling the universe and minding his own business, when his Tardis picked up an odd signal and refused to stop beeping. So our Time Lord, did I mention that he's dashing and handsome? No? Well, he is." The Doctor winked rakishly at her and Sam snickered rather derisively.

"_Anyway_", the Doctor continued, feeling rather put out, "in order to get a bit of peace and quiet, he takes a look at this strange signal that's coming up on the Tardis monitor. Lo and behold, it's actually not coming from either London or Cardiff. Which is rather unusual to be honest. Those two cities are usually magnets for this kind of thing. Also, this signal is not only not from earth, it's not from this century either! Using the incredible advanced technology available to him, our hero tracks the signal all the way to it's point of origin. Only he notices that there's now a secondary signal. And that's where you come in. You've been near enough to it that some of the radiation has er, rubbed off on you."

He stopped as Sam shot him an alarmed look. "Radiation? Am I all right? I'm not- "

The Doctor put a hand up to stop the panicked sentence. "You're perfectly healthy" he reassured her. "It's not a very harmful kind of radiation and the readings I got from the sonic said you've only been exposed to a miniscule amount."

Sam cocked her head to one side, a habit that those who knew her would recognise as meaning that she was adding up facts in her head. "Hang on a minute," she exclaimed, "I was in the Library all day. And you came in with your screwdriver just as I left. Are you _seriously_ telling me that some kind of alien energy source which doesn't belong in this century, never mind in this galaxy, is sitting inside the University's _Library? _In _Cork?" _

The Doctor grinned at her. "Yup! Great, isn't it?"

Sam glared at him. "Great? What if it's dangerous, I mean, are you absolutely sure I'm not going to suddenly keel over from radiation poisoning? And whoever brought it here, what about them? They could be planning to take over the world again. They could be killing people! That's what alien visitors usually do!" The Doctor gave her a hurt look and Sam remembered who she was talking to. She went red. "Present company excepted of course," she muttered, staring at the floor.

Deciding to get over the awkward moment by completely ignoring it, the Doctor cleared his throat. "You were in the Library all day?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "Yep. Got a few exams coming up and it's quieter there than here."

The Doctor stood up decisively. "Right, so you were definately exposed to the radiation there. That's all I need to know. Thanks. Tell Harry I said hello the next time you see him." He strode towards the door intending to go straight to library, but was stopped by Sam grabbing his arm.

"Hold it mister," she said firmly. "You're not going without me."

As soon as heard the familiar words the Doctor sighed inwardly. Humans! Every time, _every time, _they said this: You're not going without me, you're not leaving me here, _you can't just go swanning off._ _Yes I can_, he thought savagely, _this is me, swanning off._ Especially this time. Harry's niece. Harry, who'd been there on Skaro, saving Sarah Jane's life while _he_ ruminated over whether he had the right to stop the Daleks existing. _Hah! _a little voice said, _You got the answer to that question eventually didn't you Doctor. And now you're alone._

Harry Sullivan's niece, who'd been told stories about him in his fourth form when she was a child, probably when her favourite uncle visited during the summer or something. He was not involving her in this. He had no reason to bring her into this. She'd simply been exposed to some relatively harmless radiation, but the traces of it on her were fading fast. She didn't need to come. Also, much as he hated to admit it, Sam had unfortunately been right when she'd made her declaration about the probable owners of the signal source. As much as he loved the planet, nine times out of ten, the earth attracted would-be universal conquerers. It was unfortunate planetary flaw.

The Doctor turned towards Sam, intending to explain that she was _not_ under any circumstances, coming with him. That it was far too dangerous. So he took a deep breath, prepared himself to make a speech explaining exactly why she wasn't coming and looked straight into her eyes. The prepared speech died on his lips. He recognised the look in her eyes._ Yup_, he thought resignedly, _seen that look before. In, oh, so many different faces, just after I'd met them. All of them heroes. All my friends. That's the 'if you're leaving me behind then I'll follow you on my own' look_. He sighed, realising he should've expected it. She'd probably follow him even if he used the sonic screwdriver to lock the door.

"Alright," he agreed, "you can come, but, and this is important Sam, if I tell you to get out, then _you get out_. _Do you understand?" _Sam nodded, slightly shocked by the intensity of his tone. But then she squared her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full height. The Doctor still towered a head above her, but even so, she was a tall for a girl and had no trouble looking him in the face.

"Right." she said in a determined voice. "Let's go."

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Chibi!Ninth Doctor would like reviews. All the other Chibi!Doctors got some and he has none. Chibi!Nine is sad.


	4. Remember Kids: Vandalism is a crime

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. But my plan to take over the universe is right on schedule!! Hahahahaha!!...whoops...

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Sam followed the Doctor up the path leading to the library. He was busy scanning and adjusting his screwdriver, so he wasn't paying attention to her right now. She took the oppurtunity to examine him more closely. What she saw was a tall, skinny eccentric with no fashion sense. He looked like a man in his mid-thirties, but from what she'd seen, he behaved like a child, delighted by the unexpected.

But he could also turn serious and commanding in the blink of an eye. She'd seen that back at the apartment when they'd argued. He did _not_ want her coming along. Probably because he thought it was too dangerous. Well that was tough luck for him, Sam thought. She'd faced Cybermen, Daleks and a coffee-deprived Harry Sullivan. She thought she could handle some aliens hiding in a library. And now she sincerely hoped that her last thought didn't come back and bite her in the ass.

By the time they got to the library, the sliding doors were shut tight. The Doctor aimed his screwdriver at the locks expectantly and then scowled when the doors failed to open.

"Why is it that everywhere is deadlock sealed these days?" he asked the air around him. Sam blinked in surprise. She'd thought that the screwdriver could open any lock. But apparently not. She looked up at the Doctor.

"So now what?" she asked the spiky-haired Time Lord.

He shrugged. "We need another way in. You have any ideas? Any secret student ways in, not known to members of the faculty and library staff? No secret doors known only to plucky, adventurous types?"

Sam raised an eyebrow."You read _way_ too many mystery novels, don't you?" she said.

The Doctor shrugged defensively. "Nothing wrong with sitting down by the fire and enjoying a bit of Poirot or Miss Marple," he opined. "I met Agatha Christie y'know. Classy lady."

The Doctor started to walk around the library, looking for another way in. He pointedly ignored Sam when she brought up the fact that the emergency exits at the back were bound to be sealed as well and the building's ground floor windows were nowhere near big enough to climb through. She scowled in his direction, and was promptly told: "Your face will freeze like that if you're not careful." This only served to make her scowl deepen, especially when the Doctor said it with a charming smile and then turned his attention to the wall of the building with an expression on his face that said the ugly brickwork was absolutely fascinating in ways that humans couldn't comprehend.

Sam sighed in exasperation. She was beginning to see what her Uncle Harry had meant when he'd said that you needed a special type of personality to put up with the Doctor on your own for more than five minutes when he wasn't essential to stopping an impending Apocalypse. He was already irritating her and she'd only known him less than an hour.

Now that she thought about it, Harry had said that it had been Sarah-Jane Smith who had invited him to travel in the TARDIS as opposed to the Doctor. Apparently Sarah had been travelling with the Doctor for about a year at that point. Clearly Ms. Smith had been looking for someone to distract the Doctor while she recovered her sanity. Sam was rapidly developing strong admiration for anyone who had travelled with the Doctor alone for that length of time without going irrevocably insane.

"Okay then, Doctor," Sam said, once she'd managed to recover her dignity and stop scowling, "what's so interesting about that part of the wall? You've been waving your screwdriver at it for five minutes flat." The Doctor shot her a brilliant grin and patted the brickwork affectionately.

"This," he said importantly, clearly trying to be impressive, "is our way in to the library."

Sam blinked. She looked at the Doctor. She looked at the ordinary patch of wall. She looked back at the Doctor. He was still grinning.

"Uh... okay" Sam said slowly, wondering what drugs the Doctor had been smoking. "Doctor," she continued, "that's not a door. It's a piece of wall, okay?"

To Sam's annoyance the Doctor looked at _her_ as if she was the one a few cards short of a full deck. "Yes. Well done. It is a wall," he said in an annoyingly patronising tone of voice. And then he gave it a hard slap. Sam jumped back in shock as part of the wall collapsed and there was suddenly a six foot hole in the side of the library. "Doesn't look like a wall anymore though, does it?" the Doctor said nonchalantly, stepping through the cloud of dust and into the building.

Sam stood with her mouth open for a few moments, a little freaked that the man had resorted to knocking a hole through a thick wall instead of waiting for the library to open in the morning. Then the Doctor stuck his head back through the hole. "Close your mouth before you catch flies," he advised. Sam snapped her mouth shut immediately and after mentally vowing never to let the Doctor catch her staring slack-jawed again, followed him through the hole into the building. Once she got through the dust cloud and saw the room properly, she immediately wished she hadn't. Dead bodies can do that to people.

The Doctor was already leaning over the body. It was in the corner of the small room that he'd provided with an extra door. It was also halfway decomposed and stank. But the uniform it was wearing meant it was still recognisable as the remains of the over zealous security guard that Sam and the Doctor had encountered earlier. The Doctor seemed to have realised this and was looking both regretful and thoughtful. Sam could only stare at him, feeling slightly light-headed and confused, until she realised something that made her go even more pale than she already had.

"I saw him a few hours ago!" she exclaimed. "There's no way his body fell apart that fast. . ." She trailed off, looking at the Doctor for help.

He nodded, agreeing with her. "Yep, this poor fellow's been dead a couple of days at least." he mused. "Which means" he continued, "that we're dealing with a shape-shifter. Drat. They're always tricky."

Sam swallowed, trying to keep her nausea under control. "At least he won't be coming after you for vandalising the wall," she told the Doctor, who gave her a disapproving look. She scowled at him. "Doctor, I've just seen a rather disgusting looking corpse. So let me use my coping mechanism, okay? Or would you rather I started screaming and then fainted? No? Alright then. Can we get out of here please?"

The Doctor nodded, standing up and doing a quick sweep of the room with his sonic screwdriver. "Okay," he said, putting the tool away. "Let's get up to the roof. The main signal is still coming from there." Then he strode over to the door of the room and pushed it. It refused to budge. The Doctor pull out the sonic, pointed it at the lock on the door and promptly groaned. "It's official," he announced. "I hate deadlock seals."

###

The Doctor sighed in frustration and halfheartedly waved the sonic screwdriver at the locked door again. Just as before, it had no effect. Deadlock seals seemed to be everywhere these days. Past and future, he kept running into them. It was enough to make a man wish for a dramatic alternative, like a sonic chainsaw. The Doctor briefly considered the idea before deciding that perhaps the universe would be better off if no one ever developed such a device.

"So now what?" The voice cut through the Doctor's thoughts, bringing him back to the situation at hand. He mentally listed off the things at his disposal. One hole in the wall, one dead-locked door, one decomposing corpse and one annoyed teenager. Who seemed to be getting more annoyed by the minute. _Oh yes_ he realised, _haven't answered her question yet. Humans. So impatient_.

Turning to the girl, the Doctor waved a hand vaguely. "The sonic screwdriver can't unlock deadlock seals," he explained to her. "We'll have to find another way in. Shame really. I hate to vandalise a wall for nothing. Ah well, can't be helped. Let's go." To his annoyance, Sam didn't move. She stared at him as if he was mad, causing him to sigh inwardly. _That look is getting old_, he thought.

"You just knocked a hole in a wall," she said incredulously. "And now you're giving up because of a wooden door?" Sam shook her head at him in apparent exasperation. "I mean," she said, "even if you can't unlock it because of the deadlock thing, you should still be able to break it apart, right? The wooden part, at the very least?"

The Doctor blinked at her, the idea having honestly never occurred to him before. But then, all the other times he'd been up against a deadlock seal, the door in question had either been solid metal or he'd had hungry bat-people chasing him. But this door was just wood. The girl had a valid point. He promptly gave her his biggest congratulatory grin and warned her to stay back in case of splinters.

Sam obliged by ducking behind a desk in the corner. Once the Doctor was sure she was safely out of the way he fixed a particular setting on the sonic and backed away as far as he could without being out of range of the door. He pointed the screwdriver, hit the power button and immediately dived out of the way with his coat pulled over his head as razor sharp shards of door hurtled towards him.

It was only after the rain of wood had stopped that the Doctor became aware that he'd jumped in an inadvisable direction. His temporary companion had already been less than impressed with him and he suspected he was losing the rest of her respect as fast as she was running out of oxygen. He rolled off her with an apologetic look and held out a hand to pull her to her feet. She responded by glaring bloody murder at him.

"You almost suffocated me, you nutter! Never mind splinters, you should've warned me to look out for idiotic time lords who don't watch where they're diving. How the hell is someone as skinny as you so bloody heavy anyway?"

The Doctor mock-glared at her and purposely began to mutter just under his breath about less intelligent species. He was gratified to hear an indignant gasp from behind him as he stepped through the shattered remains of the door. Grinning to himself, he began scanning with the sonic screwdriver. It'd be good to have a heads up if the aliens behind this whole mess decided to sneak up on him. They'd have a much stronger signal coming from them than Sam had, so chances were, he'd spot them with the screwdriver a mile off. As he waved the sonic in an arc around the corridor the girl in question caught his arm.

"The stairs to the other floors are that way," she said, pointing quietly. "I don't know about you but I'm not about to use the lift right now. Not with technologically advanced crazies about."

The Doctor nodded his assent and took her hand, walking in the direction she'd indicated. Three flights of stairs later his new friend was out of breath and feeling very jealous of the Doctor's apparently bottomless amount of stamina. _'Does he ever get tired?_' she wondered to herself. Just how different was TimeLord biology anyway? The Doctor had practically run up three flights of stairs, dragging her along with him and was once again scanning with his screwdriver to his hearts content. She was winded and catching her breath, while he wasn't even breathing hard!

Sam's train of thought abruptly ran off the rails when she turned to look at the doors to the main section of books on this particular floor and found herself face to face with a giant bug. The Doctor's head jerked around at her strangled scream. He stared in shock at the bug.

"A Skang?!" the Time Lord half-shouted. "Impossible!" Then he grabbed Sam by the arm and said his most frequently used word. "Run!"

###

The Doctor and Sam hared down the Library stairs as fast as they could, the giant bug chasing at their heels. Rounding a corner, they jumped the last few steps of the stairs and rushed into the library's reception. Ahead of them, the glass doors of the Library loomed large in Sam's vision and for a second she was sure they were trapped. Then the Doctor thrust his arm out, sonic screwdriver in hand, and a piercing noise emanated from the small tool. The glass doors cracked and webbed into spidery patterns at an amazing rate and then they shattered.

As glass scattered across the floor and alarms rang out, the Skang let out a screech of pain, like nails on a blackboard. The Doctor gave a whoop of laughter and ran onwards, dragging Sam after him. "Hah!" he yelled, "how d'you like _them _sonics, eh?!"

The Skang screeched again, rage evident in its bug-like features, and flew after it's two tormentors. They ducked and zig-zag'd across the university campus as the insect swooped and dived, trying to catch them in it's claws. It was raining heavily now, stinging human and Time Lord face alike. The rain also seemed to give the Skang trouble, it's flying becoming decidedly less graceful.

By now the Doctor and his companion had ended up in the cloistered courtyard that was the oldest part of the university. Tall stone walls with a church-like archictecture surrounded them as they tried to find an escape from the oncoming insect. Spotting a small old-fashioned wooden door cut into the corner of the wall and hidden by shadows, Sam dragged the lanky Time Lord towards it.

"C'mon!" she yelled. "Over here! Can you open the door?!"

"'Course I can!" he yelled back, shouting to be heard over the rain and the buzzing noise of the Skang which was currently circling the courtyard, trying to see where it's prey had gone, still deafened as it was by the Doctor's sonic work in the library.

Once again, the Doctor produced his sonic screwdriver and got to work unlocking the door. However, the noise of the screwdriver attracted the attention of the Skang which had now recovered from the earlier sonic attack. With an ear-piercing shriek, it righted itself in the sky, heedless of the rain and winds attempting to buffet it and dove straight towards it's prey.

The Doctor pushed Sam behind him protectively and thrust out a hand, aiming his screwdriver straight at the monstrous insect. A deafening sound echoed through the air, the sonic buzz at a searing pitch. The Skang shrieked in agony. . . and kept coming. Belatedly the Doctor realised that the creature was too enraged now to be dissuaded by painful sonic interference. It was going to kill him. At least Sam would have a chance to run while the insect tore him to pieces.

The Doctor spread his arms wide, making the perfect target for the furious bug. And was promptly knocked to the ground as a heavy weight hit him in the back and a female voice yelled "Duck, you dumbass!"

As he fell, the Doctor felt wind rush through his hair as the Skang's bottom claws missed him by millimetres. A second later there was a dull, squelchy thud. The Skang had hit the solid oak door and like any relatively soft object moving at considerable speed which hit an immovable object, it had. . . splattered.

The weight on the Doctor's back squealed in disgust. "Oh _yuck!_" it groaned at the Doctor, "I'm covered in bug bits! Ewww!"

"Well, it could be worse," the Doctor replied, finding his voice, "the Skang could be covered in bits of us. Could you move please? You're a little heavy."

There was a disdainful sniff as the girl on his back rolled off him and stated brushing herself down. "Covered in bits of _you_, you mean. What was with that whole 'Come and get me' pose. That was stupid of you. You didn't even try to get away! Don't you have a sense of self-preservati. . . "

Sam's voice trailed off as she remembered the end of the Doctor's sentence. "Wait a minute, 'a little heavy'. . . are you calling me fat?!"

"Of course not!" the Doctor assured her. "Although," he said thoughtfully, "judging from your running ability it wouldn't hurt you to lose a few p-"

He stopped. The look on Sam's face suggested that she wanted to hit him in the face with bug guts.

She had tensed up, her mouth working soundlessly, a Skang claw gripped in her hand. For a second the Doctor expected a scream of rage, but then the girl sagged, adrenaline rush gone. The alien claw clattered to the ground as her grip slackened and she swayed on her feet, clearly worn out.

"I need a shower." Sam managed to croak, her voice hoarse.

Looking at the state of his own clothes and hair, which were also covered in unpleasant slime, not to mention soaked by the rain, the Doctor nodded in agreement. Whatever the Skang were up to, they wouldn't be doing any more tonight. Besides, he felt obligated to look the best he could when saving the world. A shower would not go amiss.

"C'mon," his teenage friend tugged on his arm, "that party upstairs will still be going on for a while longer, so the girls won't be home for ages. We can clean up at my place."

The Doctor nodded gratefully following her. "Good idea. I don't fancy walking all the way to the TARDIS like this. Your apartment is much closer."

"The TARDIS. . . " Sam murmured in surprise. She'd forgotten about the Doctor's ship.

"Yeah," he elaborated, "I left her across the campus, near the university gates." Looking down at the girl he noted the hopeful expression on her face and smiled. "Once we've sorted out the Skang I'll give you a tour as thanks, how about it?"

The look on Sam's face was that of a five-year-old who was sure they'd just seen the real Santa. "Thank you!" she laughed, "if I wasn't covered in bug crap I'd hug you!"

The Doctor grinned.

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Read and review please! It makes Chibi!Doctor happy!


	5. Enter the Bad Guys

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or related monsters. Just Sam.

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Having escaped the Skang, the Doctor and Sam had made their way back to Sam's appartment to clean up. Luckily for them, Sam's guess that her flatmates would still be at the party in the appartment upstairs had been correct. As they had entered the flat, loud music and the sound of voices and laughter of young people echoed down through the ceiling.

Once the two of them had washed off the remains of the oversized bug and changed clothes, they'd adjourned to the small kitchen/living room and flopped down onto the chintz covered chairs, tired out from the adrenalin rush. Or, at least, Sam was tired out. She noted that the Doctor, aside from expressing disgust at the state of his clothes and enthusiasm for a hot shower, didn't seem tired at all.

"Okay," Sam said, yawning as she used a towel to dry her hair, "you recognised that big bug thing, right? So what is it?"

The Doctor, who was now dressed in a spare pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt that belonged to Sam's brother, frowned confusedly for a minute before answering. "It's called a Skang," he replied, running a hand distractedly through his own wet hair. "I ran into them before, back in the eighties. . . or maybe it was the seventies? In any case Sarah Jane was with me at the time. You've heard of her, yes?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we've met. So what were they doing here back then?"

The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing much really, just your standard take over the world and turn all the humans into Skang or food. Thanks for the clothes, by the way."

Sam shrugged. "Thank my brother, not me. Guess it's a good thing he left them here the last time he visited, otherwise you'd have ended up wearing _my_ jeans and I don't think that would've been very comfortable for you. You're just lucky that Stephen has pretty much the same build as you." Sam paused, as she suddenly realised just what the Doctor had nonchalantly said. "Wait a minute, turn humans _into _Skang? Can they do that?" She shot the Doctor a frightened glance.

"Mmm," he hummed, "unfortunately yes. The Skang er. . Leader, shall we say, excretes spores, which then scatter all over the planet, infecting human hosts and slowly turning them into Skang themselves, while maintaining an outward appearance of humanity."

Sam's mouth twisted with disgust. "Oh, _yuck._"

"Yes, quite."

"So what the hell are they doing here in Cork?" the girl asked, her brow wrinkling in confusion as she tried to think of a reason.

The Doctor shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea," he said cheerfully. "But don't worry, I'll figure it out."

"And if you don't, the human race gets turned into bugs?" Sam asked, dropping her towel and going to the kitchen cupboards in search of teabags and a mug.

"Well, not all of you, just about ten percent," the Time Lord clarified, picking up the towel and using it on his own hair. "The rest'll probably be used as food stock," he said reflectively. "If the Skang converted the entire human race, they'd accidentally drive themselves to extinction through overbreeding and the resulting starvation due to food shortage."

"Gee, thanks for that info," she said dryly and switched on the kettle, having successfully located the teabags. "I feel _so_ much better."

"You're welcome!" the Doctor beamed. "I'll have two sugars in mine, thanks."

Sam sighed and reached for a second mug.

###

The university had already shut down for the night and all the campus buildings were dark, with only the lights over emergency exits still buzzing. Anyone familiar with the daily routine of the college's population would have found no difference in the dark silhouettes of the buildings on this night when comparing it with any other.

Except, that is, for the library. Behind the window of a room at the very top of the four story building, a light flickered into life behind draw-down blinds and two shadows appeared against the blinds, like inky black stains spreading across paper. A watcher, if there had been any, would have noted that for an instant the shadows blurred, appearing almost insectlike before resolving themselves into the shape of two people, a man and woman facing each other, silhouetted against the window's blinds.

"We have a problemmm," the woman said, her voice a sibilant whisper.

"Yessss," the man hissed back. "The identity is unknown, but. . . the sssonic technology isss familiar. . ."

"The previousss attempt to colonisse thiss planet. It wasss unsuccesssful becausse of a being with that technology," the woman hissed in a worried tone.

"We ssaw the being," the man said thoughtfully. "It ssmelled of the sssame sspecies, but itsss appearance differed greatly. It wass not the ssame one."

The woman shook slightly, like a bird settling it's feathers. "He could sstill be dangerouss," she said, her voice slowly losing its hissing quality and becoming more human sounding. "The lassst time we tried to colonisse thiss planet our strategy took place over months and the two-hearted being still toppled it in a day. The Great Skang was forced to retreat and Mother Hilda died."

"It will be different this time," the man assured his companion, sounding far more relaxed than she did. "Last time we did not truly understand how the human mind worked. That was our downfall. But now we have complete understanding of the psychology of humans. The interfering being will not stop uss."

"Tell that to Brother Frank," the woman snapped. "He was-"

"He was careless," the man interrupted. "Of course I mourn his loss. All the collective do. But there is no denying that his death was caused by his own foolishness. If he'd been better at dealing with the remains of his meal he wouldn't have had to chase those two interferences. A lesson for all of us, to be more careful."

"Perhaps," the woman said. Then she straightened slightly, having thought of something. "The female being. It was human was it not?"

"Yes," the man said slowly. "It certainly appeared to be."

"The being with the sonic technology which defeated us last time. It also sought the assisstance of humans. Perhaps this one follows the same pattern?"

"That is. . . possible," the man agreed. "We must be prepared. Humans can be surprisingly resourceful."

"As well we know," the woman pointed out. "After all, all of us were human once."

There was a brief silence as both reflected on their former humanity. Then the man cleared his throat.

"The girl," he said. "I believe I recognised her. Her name is. . . Sullivan, as far as I know. She attends my lectures."

"Then you can locate her now?"

"Quite easily," he assured his confederate.

"Then do s-, no wait," she corrected herself. "Perhaps we should wait and see. Rushing in to attack failed to work for Brother Frank. As you said, we should learn from his mistake. Wait until the next lecture she attends and then ask to speak with her privately. See if you can find out what she knows without arousing suspicion."

"And if I do make her suspicious?" the man asked.

"Then sadly Ms. Sullivan will soon suffer a fatal accident."

"Ah," he replied.

"Just remember that it must look like an _accident._ If you feed on her the papers will be full of stories about a bizarre murder. We do _not_ want the authorities' attention. Especially not authorities like UNIT. The remains of a human after we've fed is _exactly _the kind of thing they notice."

The man pursed his lips for a moment and then said: "I have a lecture tomorrow morning. She should be there."

"Good. Find out what she knows. But don't kill her unless you absolutely have to."

The man scowled and his body shook slightly. "It's been such a long time since I ate," he complained. "Can't I just. . ."

"_No,_" the woman berated him. "University students typically have families. People who are inclined to notice if they go missing. Like I already said: the last thing we want is the police doing a search over the university grounds and stumbling on our facility." She paused and sighed, seeing the look on her companion's face. "I suppose, if you really feel that you must, you can snack on a vagrant. There are a quite a few of them in the city centre I recall."

The man brightened up visibly and the woman gave a long suffering sigh. "Just remember to clean up after your meal. No dumping it by the roadside or into the river. In my experience, human rubbish has a distressing tendency to float to the surface."

The man's countenance darkened again. "Surely you're not suggesting I dig a _grave_ for my food?" he sulked.

"If that's what it takes," the woman snapped.

"Very well," he agreed. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodbye," she replied, walking towards the office door. "See you then, Professor Williams."

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